


The Art of Handshakes

by Emmeebee



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Vague reference to past sexual harassment, but incorporates elements from Infinity War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 05:24:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19125469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmeebee/pseuds/Emmeebee
Summary: When Tony invites Peter to a high-end gala as part of his mentorship, Peter feels like he’s in over his head. Can he get through it without revealing his secret identity? And what do fancy parties have to do with learning how to be a friendly neighbourhood Spider-man anyway?





	The Art of Handshakes

Peter resisted the urge to adjust the tailored suit Mr Stark had commissioned for him as he weaved through the crowd at the gala. Physically, it was a perfect fit, and it was more expensive than his entire wardrobe put together. But it felt like nothing more than a costume from a dress-up shop: an obvious imitation. Just like him.

All around him, the other attendees were garbed in equally extravagant clothing, but on them, it looked natural. This was just another Saturday to them.

All anybody had to do was look at him to see that he didn’t belong there. Even a day of etiquette training with Mr Stark and Ms Potts had done little to fix that, other than making him feel like a debutant.

He was an imposter; they were the real thing.

In truth, Peter didn’t even know why he was there. Ever since his release from the Soul Stone, Mr Stark had doubled down on mentoring him, arguing that it was just as important to train his human half as it was to train his superhero half. But how would going to high galas and other fancy occasions help with that? It had no relevance to his life.

‘Who cares?’ Ned had asked when Peter brought it up to him a month before. ‘You’ll get free food, right?’

Free food. Right. That would have been appealing, especially since the food at a shindig like this was bound to be delicious, but Peter was too nervous about getting anything on the suit to enjoy it.

‘Hey, kid, where are you going?’

Peter let out a breath of relief and turned left to see Happy standing to the side of the room with Ms Potts. After months where the only way to contact Mr Stark was through his chauffeur’s voicemail, he would recognise the man’s voice anywhere.

‘I don’t know,’ he admitted when he reached them. Sheepishly, he whispered, ‘I was just trying to look busy so no one would talk to me.’

For a moment, Peter thought Happy was going to crack a rare smile.

‘We’ve all been there,’ Ms Potts said, laughter tinging her voice.

Peter raised his eyebrows. Ms Potts was the most professional person he knew. ‘I can’t imagine you doing it.’

‘Are you kidding? Back when Stark Industries made weapons, there were a few stakeholders who always found I just happened to be busy when they dropped by.’ One side of her mouth quirked up. ‘It was such a shame. Tony had to deal with them personally.’

‘Oh. Were they inappropriate?’ Living with Aunt May had taught him about how gross some men could be. Even some of his _classmates_ had made comments about her.

‘No, just highly unpleasant.’

‘Speaking about Mr Stark and dealing with people,’ Peter said, bringing the conversation around to the question that had been plaguing him for the past few weeks, ‘do you know why he wanted me to come tonight? He said it was part of my training, but… but I don’t see how. I mean, I’m not trying to question his decision-making or anything — I trust him — but I don’t understand.’

Happy raised his eyebrows. ‘You can’t tell?’

‘I wouldn’t have asked if I could.’ Peter’s eyes widened as he realised he’d said that aloud. The man had only just started to warm up to him! ‘Sir.’

Happy huffed. ‘Tony’s a bad influence on you.’

‘That’s something you should talk to Tony about,’ said Ms Potts, who, thankfully, didn’t look upset. ‘It’s not our place to say.’

That wasn’t likely to go anywhere; Tony was a master at avoiding unwanted conversations, usually by annoying people until they broke. But it was clear he wouldn’t get answers here, either.

‘So this is the intern!’ a man exclaimed as he joined them, the scent of expensive cologne following him like a shadow. ‘You must be one special kid; Tony hates student workers.’

Pepper’s smile grew thin and wooden. ‘That’s not true, Norman. Stark Industries is the leading employer for student interns, as I’m sure you’re aware. Tony has never taken an intern personally before Peter, but that’s due to the nature of his work, not any personal disinclination.’

‘Pepper, my dear, you forget that I’ve been running a company much longer than you. I’m as experienced with spinning a story as you are.’

Peter got the distinct impression that this man, while perhaps not one of the stakeholders Pepper had mentioned before, had a lot in common with them.

‘I’m Peter Parker,’ he said, holding out his hand in the way Mr Stark had made him practice earlier.

The man took his hand and shook it. The action was firm but perfunctory, as if he couldn’t contemplate not doing it well as a matter of principle rather than respect. Peter was, clearly, just the next in the conveyor belt of hands to shake. ‘Norman Osborn. Bit of a weak grip you’ve got there.’

‘Osborn?’ Peter’s eyes widened. ‘From Oscorp? You… oh, _wow_.’

‘A fan, I see.’

‘My twelfth birthday present was a subscription to the Oscorp Journal of Biochemistry.’ Peter didn’t add that they’d had to cancel it after Uncle Ben died and money got tight. ‘Your research in the field is unparalleled.’

‘Huh.’ Mr Osborn’s eyebrows rose, an impressed expression momentarily flickering across his face. ‘Then what are you doing over with Stark? Send me your CV and I’ll see about letting you finish up your internship with us.’

The words were like a sledgehammer to the chest — only worse, because the Spider-man suit would have taken the brunt of the strike. Stunned, Peter could do nothing but stare, mouth open in shock. How was this his life? Since when was he headhunted at high galas in the fancy part of town?

He knew nepotism was alive and thriving in the world, but things like this just didn’t happen to people like him. Most science-lovers his age would have been ecstatic to have an in at _one_ cool multinational corporation, let alone an offer of one at another.

Shoot. Mr Osborn was still waiting for a response! ‘I’m honoured, sir. Truly. It would be a privilege to be an intern at Oscorp. But… but I’m happy at Stark Industries. I’m learning loads, and Mr Stark and Ms Potts have both been very kind to me.’

‘Yet you don’t even call them by their first names.’

‘Peter has a strong sense of professionalism,’ Ms Potts interjected smoothly.

Happy stepped forward until he was in line with Peter. ‘Stop hassling our intern.’

‘Well, I suppose the best time to offer wasn’t in front of your current employer, was it? It’s alright; I won’t hold it against you.’ Mr Osborn held out his hand. ‘If you ever change your mind, let me know. My receptionists will be expecting your call.’

‘Thank you.’ This time, when Peter shook his hand, he squeezed tighter.

_Weak grip,_ Mr Osborn had said.

_Firm,_ Mr Stark had said.

Peter could do firm.

Mr Osborn yelped, pain twisting his face into a grimace. He tugged his hand back, and Peter let go, his heart pounding.

Once it was free, the scientist cradled it in his other hand.

‘I’m — I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t mean… You said I had a weak grip, and I was trying to fix it, and…’

‘By what, _crushing_ it?’

‘Let me see.’ Happy walked forward and held out his palm. ‘I’m one of the designated first aid personnel.’

At first, Peter didn’t think Mr Osborn was going to let him, but after a pause, he rested his right hand on the other man’s palm. Happy examined it, pressing his finger into his skin to test his reactions.

The whole time, Mr Osborn’s gaze was fixed on Peter. His teeth were gritted and his eyes as wild as a feral animal’s.

Peter’s heart fell. What if it was serious? He stared at the ground, shuffling his feet.

‘It feels broken — possibly in multiple places — but you’ll need to get it checked out properly.’

‘How?’

‘An X-ray?’ Happy sounded confused.

‘No; how did you _do_ it? You’re a teenager — a _kid_. How did you shake my hand hard enough to break bones without even noticing?’ His voice was rising, and Peter’s face grew warm as a few of the nearby partygoers turned at the commotion.

Fear stabbed at him. He couldn’t tell Mr Osborn the truth; if his secret got out, someone might go after his friends or Aunt May to get to him. But was being sued for assault by Mr Osborn really much better? Either way, it would bring him unwanted attention.

And there was still the chance that Mr Osborn would keep his identity secret. ‘Umm…’

Something heavy pressed down on his shoulder, and Peter flinched before relaxing as he realised it was Mr Stark’s hand.

Whether it was as Iron Man or Mr Stark, the man knew how to time a rescue.

‘Peter has been making use of the company gym. You know how young people are; they find something they’re interested in and become obsessed… or maybe that was just me. I can never really tell.’ Mr Stark shrugged, a broad smile on his face. ‘I’ve been told my experiences were unorthodox.’

Ms Potts was lingering behind Mr Stark, and it was then that Peter realised she’d gone missing while Happy was examining the injury. She must have found Mr Stark.

‘You don’t get strength like that from being an overzealous teen. There has to be more to it than that.’ Mr Osborn’s eyes narrowed. ‘If you don’t tell me, I’ll find out another way. Trust me; you _really_ don’t want to learn what that entails.’

Peter was in way over his head. Out there, wearing his suit, he would have had this. But here, there was no winning. ‘Drugs!’ he exclaimed. ‘Performance-enhancing ones. Steroids, specifically.’

That wasn’t what he’d meant to say.

‘And Tony’s employing you?’

Mr Stark let out an exasperated huff. ‘What are you expecting? You’re interrogating the poor kid. He’s already answered your question, yet you refuse to believe him. You know prisoners lie under torture just to get it to stop.’

‘Talking is a far cry from torture; I thought you’d know that.’ Mr Osborn raised an eyebrow. ‘Or were the stories of Afghanistan exaggerated?’

Mr Stark’s grip tightened on Peter’s shoulder, his expression as hard and sharp as ice. ‘Talking to _you_ isn’t.’

‘Norman, how about I walk you out?’ Ms Potts suggested. ‘Happy can drive you to the hospital of your choosing.’

He glared at her, and when he spoke, his voice was harsh. ‘If you think this is over—’

‘We’ll walk you out,’ she said firmly.

The three of them left, Mr Osborn walking in the middle like a criminal between two bailiffs.

‘I’m so sorry, Mr Stark,’ Peter said when they were out of hearing range. ‘I messed up.’

Again.

How many times would he have to apologise for his dumb mistakes?

Maybe the spider should have bitten someone else instead. Someone who actually knew what they were doing.

‘Yeah, you did—’

‘Maybe this isn’t a good idea after all. I can—’

‘But it’s fine. We’ll just… work on what “firm” means.’

‘—go back to—’ He blinked. ‘You’re not angry?’

‘Are you kidding?’ Mr Stark led him back towards their empty table. ‘Norman has been a thorn in my side for _decades_. It wasn’t the most subtle way of getting back at him, but I’m glad _someone_ did it.’ His eyebrows drew together in a moment of rare public self-reflection. ‘Pepper would say I should set a better example for you — maybe she’s right. I want to be a better father figure than my old man.’

All thoughts of self-recrimination fled at the word “father”. ‘Mr Stark, have you — I mean, is Ms Potts… is she pregnant?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Then what…’ Peter’s eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. Was this what Happy and Ms Potts had meant earlier? The insistence on mentoring _Peter,_ not just Spider-man… the invitations to the kind of events that Mr Stark would have attended at his age… ‘You see yourself as my father figure?’

Mr Stark frowned. ‘Don’t you?’

‘Well, yes, but… but I didn’t think _you_ did.’

‘Typical,’ he said dryly, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. ‘I try to act like a parent and nobody can tell. You know you’ll have to call me Tony now, right? And that means you’ll have to call Pepper by her first name, too, so she doesn’t get jealous.’

‘Alright.’ It felt as if he’d been run over with a bulldozer. How hadn’t he realised this sooner? ‘I can do that.’

‘Good. And if anyone asks who your favourite superhero is, you have to say Iron Man.’

Peter shot him an incredulous look.

‘Well, you can’t go around saying Spider-man,’ Mr Stark — _Tony_ — pointed out. ‘It’d be suspicious. Unless you’ve changed your mind about that “test”...’

‘No!’ It was different for Tony; he was an adult, and he had state-of-the-art equipment to defend his family. ‘Go Iron Man!’ he said feebly.

‘Well, we’re going to have to work on your delivery, but it’s a start.’

As they sat down, Peter looked out across the hall, his mind returning to the man from earlier. ‘Mr Osborn isn’t going to let this go, is he?’

‘He might,’ Tony said. ‘Pepper will be trying to make a deal with him, and there’s a chance he’ll accept. But even if he says no, we’ll sort something out.’

Peter believed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Marvel Undercover fest for Prompt #126 (Peter goes to a high-end gala meet as Tony's intern, accidentally shakes someone's hand too hard and fractures it. They have to deal with hiding his identity whilst still getting them the medical attention they need.).
> 
> Thank you so much to QueSeraSeraph for betaing this for me!


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